


Another Year of Candlelight

by the_rck



Series: When the Heroes Fall [1]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Broken heroes, Espionage, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Psychological Torture, Throwing history out the window, Torture, villains win
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/pseuds/the_rck
Summary: Chou had looked more disgruntled than worried. Soujiro had looked amused. Neither made any move toward a weapon, and Kenshin had left her between himself and the other two. They were, she guessed, no longer enemies. That made no sense to her, but she didn't need to understand it, not now. She'd find out.She forced herself to meet Kenshin's eyes. They were utterly flat. No compassion. No laughter. Not even anger. What happened? she wondered. Her own experiences suggested possibilities, and she liked none of them."I am well, Megumi-san. As is Sanosuke. There is no reason for you to be here. Go home." Each word was hard and distinct. She felt them like blows.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a poem called "A Little Song" by Amy Lowell.
> 
> I'm labeling this as 'alternate history' because, while canon more or less fits into the cracks of actual history, I can't see how things diverging in this way wouldn't alter history considerably, possibly beyond recognition.
> 
> The warning for noncon and the warning for graphic depictions of violence both apply to one specific section of one chapter. There's a warning in the notes for that chapter. There is completely non-explicit and non-violent dubcon in a later chapter. Again, I mention it in the chapter notes.

The beautiful woman sat alone at the small table. Many eyes lingered on her as she drank her sake, taking in the fall of her hair and symmetry of her facial features. Apart from the waitress, no one had yet approached her.

Megumi allowed no trace of her internal frown to cross her face. She was certain she could pull this off if she could just get the first step right. Her quarry was present, and she knew he'd noticed her. She was even fairly certain that he'd noticed her watching him. She'd tried to mix demure shyness with unwilling fascination, hoping that would make her approach more intriguing.

Flamboyant. That was the nicest word Megumi could use to describe her target. Bleached hair towered over his face, spiked to ridiculous height. She'd mocked Sanosuke's attitude-laden upswept style, but compared to Chou, Sanosuke had been a model of restraint-- in drinking and manners, from her observations, just as much as in hairstyle. She schooled her features to stillness; now was not the time to mourn Sanosuke and the paths they'd never had the chance to explore. Chou was what mattered now.

He wore a sword openly, and his conversation was marked by expansive gestures, forcing his neighbors to duck away in the crowded bar. A patch covered his right eye, and the left was constantly in motion, a ceaseless nervous sweeping that put lie to the pose of arrogance.

Beside him was a younger man, with a face so soft and rounded it might almost be called feminine. His face and neck were marred by a scar Megumi was sure came from a sword cut. His eyes were matched by the blue gi he wore over a western-style shirt. He smiled cheerfully at his companions, and rubbed the back of his head self-consciously as he laughed at something Chou said. Yet for all this gentle façade, Megumi noticed that Chou's gestures never intruded into Soujiro's space and that the waitresses who saw to the boy’s every whim held their shoulders hunched and tight, their smiles thin-lipped.

Pity the boy was so young. He stood higher in Shishio's esteem than the blond did and probably, so Saitoh claimed, had a longer life expectancy. Megumi took a sip of sake to hide a sigh. Youth was a passing thing. Perhaps she could attract Soujiro's interest before Shishio decided to dispose of Chou. Such a move would be in keeping for the type of woman she'd be pretending to be.

Chou caught her eye with a lazy, lopsided grin. She met his glance for just a moment, then lowered her eyes, bringing a hand up to shield her face. She allowed her gaze to return to his face after a second in an imitation of unwilling fascination.

And saw that Chou was focused on something behind her, something that had driven all thought of flirtation from his mind.

That was all the warning she had before a callused hand grasped her shoulder. She gasped and dropped her cup. It fell to the table, spilling sake across the surface.

"Megumi-san," a familiar voice said. "You should not be here."

She covered her mouth with a hand. Saitoh said he was dead! And while the voice was familiar and the words gentle, there was no softness in the tone. She turned her head to look at him.

His hair, his gorgeous brilliant red hair had been cut short. Long bangs still overshadowed his eyes, but the ponytail was gone, the fall of hair ended neatly at the nape of his neck. The top of a scar, still red and raised, emerged above the fold of his gi. The puckered shape wasn't typical of a sword-wound. But she'd seen that kind of scar before, working for Kanryuu-- a bullet scar. He'd been lucky that it hadn't pierced a lung. There were also scars along the sides of his neck. She shuddered to think how close he must have come to dying from those cuts-- The blood vessels in the neck were dreadfully close to the surface.

He no longer wore the pink gi and white hakama; his clothes now were finer, silk instead of worn and many-times-mended cotton. And they were darker, a navy so deep as to appear black, with only a hint of white beneath the gi to soften the effect.

"Ken-san," she whispered. She couldn't stop the tears.

Kenshin looked down at her without any visible emotion. "Go home, Megumi-san. For such as you, vengeance always ends badly."

The part of her mind that had kept her alive during the past years warned her to be cautious. "Ken-san—" She let her pain and confusion show in her voice while she tried to analyze her fear.

Ah. Chou had looked more disgruntled than worried. Soujiro had looked amused. Neither made any move toward a weapon, and Kenshin had left her between himself and the other two. They were, she guessed, no longer enemies. That made no sense to her, but she didn't need to understand it, not now. She'd find out.

She forced herself to meet Kenshin's eyes. They were utterly flat. No compassion. No laughter. Not even anger. What happened? she wondered. Her own experiences suggested possibilities, and she liked none of them.

"I am well, Megumi-san. As is Sanosuke. There is no reason for you to be here. Go home." Each word was hard and distinct. She felt them like blows.

"I have no home any more, Kenshin-san." She deliberately changed her form of address. Whoever this man was, he was no longer the sweet man she'd once flirted with. "Dr. Gensai has retired to the country—Kaoru's death broke his heart-- and no one will pay to see a lady doctor who works alone. My family—" Her lips twisted in genuine bitterness here. "My own family has disowned me and sworn to see that I can never practice medicine again, not reputably." She shrugged her shoulder, dislodging his hand. Her mind tallied another change. The Kenshin she knew would have removed his hand immediately after getting her attention. Megumi drew herself up in her seat. "I will not work for another Kanryuu."

"Ah." Kenshin pursed his lips slightly. Megumi thought she saw a flicker of emotion, just what she wasn't sure, cross his face. "Do you have money, Megumi-san?" He reached out a hand, the gesture swift and commanding. He had never moved that way around women before. It had been one of the things that made him feel so safe.

She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. She looked at the floor. "A little. Not much. Enough to pay for the sake. Enough to put on a show looking for…" She glanced over her shoulder at Chou, confident that Kenshin had noticed where her eyes had been lingering. She looked back at Kenshin. "Looking for what I could get. If it got me something else, too, so much the better."

He hadn’t released her hand. He nodded abruptly and turned away. "Come." He began walking toward the door, pulling her along after him.

She scrambled in her pocket, searching for coins to pay her bill. She'd not be that rude to the proprietor.

"Leave it," he told her without turning around. "Soujiro-kun will pay."

She bowed her head a little, grabbed the small bundle of her belongings that had rested at her feet and followed after him without looking at any of the people watching. She concentrated on keeping up, tracking Kenshin in the periphery of her vision. She couldn't look directly at him, or, she was certain, she'd cry.

She knew now why Saitoh hadn't told her Kenshin was alive. She could never have pretended surprise well enough to fool the Battousai, and… If this Kenshin knew the truth, he'd probably kill her. She very carefully put her questions and speculations aside, burying them behind the masks she'd built during the years since her parents died. She'd take them out and turn them over later. For the moment—

Thank god, she hadn't needed to lie. She could still hear Saitoh's voice, flat and precise. "Whatever you do, don't lie to Shishio. Shishio is very nearly Himura's equal at spotting lies. Avoid conversation of substance; you won't interest him in that way, so it shouldn't be hard." A sideways warning. She also knew now why Saitoh had seemed so pleased at the news that her remaining family had rejected her. She had no need to lie about what she'd spent the last six months doing, only to avoid mentioning those few conversations with Mibu's Wolf.

****

The reek of petroleum made each breath a chore. Sanosuke concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, making his protesting muscles carry him up the stairs. He looked down at the seemingly endless distance they'd already come and snorted in exasperation. "Shit!" he muttered.

But the distance didn't surprise him. The climb was of a piece with the combats that had preceded it. Anji, Usui, Shinomori, all just fucking obstacles intended to absorb their strength. Sanosuke's eyes flicked briefly to the riser that his companion had just vacated. His expression tightened briefly as he took in the tiny spatter of crimson. Intended to bleed them…

Damn Shinomori! And damn Kenshin and his stupid promises!

A few steps ahead, the bitch, their guide, flicked open a pocket watch. Sanosuke frowned, certain she was up to something. But Kenshin gave no sign, and Sanosuke sighed inaudibly. He had to trust Kenshin or the whole thing became impossible.

His red headed friend glanced back with a reassuring smile that seemed totally out of place under the circumstances. How Kenshin could smile as sweetly as Gensai's granddaughters at play as he bled his way up the stairs was beyond Sanosuke.

Okay, so maybe that sigh hadn't been all that silent. Sanosuke met Kenshin's eyes with more misgiving than he'd meant to reveal.

"Sano." Kenshin's voice was serious. "This last fight is between me and Shishio. Don't interfere."

Sanosuke responded with a noncommittal noise that might have been taken as agreement. Both men, however, knew that, in this case, the intent was rather closer to "like hell!"

Kenshin's eyes narrowed, but whatever words he might have said were cut off when Yumi spoke.

"You can still turn back," she told them. She pointed to the top of the flight of stairs, to a double, wooden door. "Shishio-sama is waiting through there."

Why is she so eager for us to turn back? Sanosuke wondered. It's not mercy. Is she afraid of what Kenshin will do?

Kenshin merely regarded Yumi without responding until she shrugged and continued up the stairs.

She paused at the top, with one hand on the door. Sanosuke wondered for a moment if she was going to offer them yet another chance to turn tail.

Kenshin stepped up next to her and pushed the doors open. They opened on a large, square space made entirely of stone.

Shishio stood about three quarters of the way to the far wall. Another man stood with him who Sanosuke recognized from the confrontation at The Purgatory. Houji, yes, that was the name. Ass-kisser. No one else appeared to be present, and Sanosuke sensed an increasing tension in Kenshin as they both looked around.

Shishio's thin brown lips curved in a little smile as Yumi gracefully walked forward to join him. He paid her no attention but rather focused his eyes on the two men facing him. "Soujiro sends his regrets, sempai. He had a small matter to attend to before joining us. I do hope he will arrive in time." Shishio paused in his speech to accept a kiss from Yumi. "He was, I believe, quite looking forward to it."

Sanosuke held himself very still. The malice in the other man's words seemed to crawl over his skin, and he wanted to shake himself to keep it from clinging. But that would acknowledge Shishio's power over him, something that Sanosuke could not, would not, allow. Even if he'd been willing to amuse the enemy, he'd sworn he would never be a burden, a distraction, to Kenshin.

"Small matter?" The depth and harshness of Kenshin voice told Sanosuke that his friend considered Soujiro's absence a very large matter indeed. "I had thought him to have more courtesy, that I did."

As he had been doing since they discovered that Shinomori Aoshi stood as the third challenger, Sanosuke diverted his thoughts from Soujiro at the Aoiya by concentrating on the situation at hand. If the boy that Chou had labeled the deadliest of Shishio's Juppongatana was at the Aoiya, no speed they might manage here was likely to get them back in time. Kenshin had said he'd made plans; Sanosuke had to trust in that.

"A small matter." Shishio flicked his fingers as if tossing something away. "A craftsman who has offended me." He smiled again, a cat toying with its prey. "A potter of sorts. I think you know him."

Sanosuke started not at Shishio's words but at their effect on Kenshin. The rurouni dropped into a battle ready stance, and Sanosuke heard the small noise that indicated that Kenshin had loosened his sakabato in its sheath.

What the hell? Sanosuke wasn't sure what about Shishio's words had provoked such a response. He wanted to shout encouragement, but he feared being a distraction. He took a step back, so as not to be in Kenshin's way when the fighting started.

Kenshin's focus on his opponent didn't waver. Shishio still stood as he had when they'd first entered the arena, a veneer of relaxation over steel. He made a small gesture, and Yumi and Houji moved off to either side to watch the combat from the sidelines.

Sanosuke snorted. Well trained dogs, the pair of them.


	2. Chapter 2

"You may sleep here tonight, Megumi-san." Kenshin gestured briefly toward the rolled futon. "Tomorrow, I will give you enough money for your travels." He turned so that his eyes met hers, and she found them horribly empty. She'd seen them flat before, shields concealing his purpose when he focused his mind, but there were no shields here, only openings into whatever pit had swallowed Kenshin's heart.

She swallowed a gasp. "Thank you, Kenshin-san." She gave him a small bow then bent to make her bed.

"Megumi-san."

She straightened and looked at him.

He stood so very still that she thought he might have been a statue of himself, but she could see the coiled energy that gave him his strength as it shifted a little. He raised one hand, then let it fall. He turned his back on her. "You should leave Japan, Megumi-san. There's nothing left here for you. I'll give you enough that you could buy yourself a husband of sorts, a farmer or a merchant who'd be willing to overlook your age and your past for your money and your skill, but… You should leave Japan." He looked at her again, over his shoulder, and she realized that he'd used that moment to shield his soul.

"I see." She couldn't quite keep her voice from trembling as she whispered her response. "Thank you for your advice." She knelt by the rolled futon. Her eyes itched with unshed tears, and she blinked, determined to hold onto her pride until Kenshin departed. She began to unroll the mattress. She was hardly aware as her hands undertook the familiar task; her attention focused on listening to Kenshin move.

She heard a small thump and sigh and turned to look. Kenshin had settled himself against the wall in the resting posture she associated with him, one knee bent before his chest and the other leg bent on the floor. His sword-- It couldn’t possibly be the sakabato any longer-- lay in his lap, where another man might have allowed a cat, or a lover's head, to rest. Above him, on the wall, was a painting of cranes.

He met her eyes, and she saw, she hoped she saw, a spark of humor. "That's my bed," he told her. "Where did you think I was going to sleep?"

"Ken-san!" She couldn't help it; he sounded so like himself. Then she remembered and turned away.

"It's all right, Megumi-san." Kenshin's tone was gentle. "You have certain privileges."

Her lips twisted bitterly. Privileges. "Kenshin-san," she asked, her words tentative, "what happened?" Her shoulders tensed a little. He might not like her asking. No. He certainly wouldn't like her asking, but… She kept her back to him. If he decided to be angry, she didn't want to see it coming. "That horrible policeman came and told us you were dead. All of you." Her voice broke, and she shook a little as she remembered that day.

"Saitoh—" The name came out as a feral growl that made Megumi turn rapidly to look at Kenshin.

Her eyes widened, and she brought both hands up to cover her nose and mouth.

Kenshin's eyes sparked yellow between narrowed lids. His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. His legs were tensed to leap into action against a foe who wasn't there. Then all at once the energy was gone, and he slumped against the wall. "Saitoh. That's what happened. He betrayed us. Was using me. I trusted him too much, Megumi-san. I trusted him, and it killed Yahiko and Kaoru." He paused for a moment then went on, "Many other people, too, but I don't think you knew any of them."

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say. Her right hand crept toward the knife she had concealed in her obi. She could certainly find Saitoh, might even be able to kill him before he realized…

"No." Kenshin was standing over her now, and she hadn't even heard him move. He went down on one knee beside her and shook his head. "No. I will take care of that." His fingers encircled her wrist, drawing her hand away from the black and scarlet obi where she wore the knife.

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she looked at him. He released her wrist and touched her cheek. "I'll take care of Saitoh Hajime, Megumi-san. I give you my word." Then, to her amazement, he pulled her closer and let her weep against his chest. He spoke no more and made no other gesture of comfort, simply releasing her and moving back to his place by the wall after she had cried herself out.

She wiped her face on her sleeve then finished laying out the bed. She unfastened the obi, and slid out of her kimono; her under-robe was cotton, and although it was thin, this place was warm, very warm, so that she did not fear being cold.

Kenshin continued to stare at a point on the pale rice-paper walls as she undressed, looking neither at nor away from her.

She put out the light and lay down to sleep. She was utterly unsurprised that rest eluded her.

Through the darkness, long after she should have been asleep, a few words reached her. "Shinomori Aoshi took the bodies. I haven't found out where, but I will. I will."

****

The Battousai broke my purpose, splintered it to dust, then offered words that melted on my tongue like honey sweets. Hope in place of purpose. A fair trade. A cheat. The strongest is not the most cunning. I should have remembered.

Yes, Okina-san. You taught me that lesson. I should have remembered that the Okashira couldn't stand without cunning. It was never my strong point, but you had enough to carry us both through the Civil War.

And Hannya-kun, I depended on your wits more than I ever acknowledged. I thought the Okashira had to be everything in himself. I'm still sorry about that.

But your cunning didn't save either of you, did it? Would you have survived the Aoiya, Okina-san, if I hadn't turned my swords against you? Would She have survived?

No, Misao-chan. I'm not forgetting that you're here. I know you're always here. Yes-- oh, god, yes-- you've proved you'll never let me leave you again. I just can't-- I can't see you now, not with the memory of hope on my tongue. Even if it's a good day, one when your wounds don't show, I couldn't bear it. Hope tasted like your laughter.

Thank you for the offer, Mi-chan, but those echoes are like bakery odors to the starving. Please, I'll answer your questions if you insist, but… Isn't there something else I can do for you? Something that would make you happy? I can hear the tears in your voice.

I'm glad it's a good day. I do believe you, really, but… Why don't you and Okina-san talk things over? I'm ready for my next assignment, the next step in making it all up to you.

Besides, the Battousai will be along soon. Kaoru-san's birthday is the day after tomorrow, and I know neither of you would like it if we fought here. You deserve your peace. I wonder, will he plant flowers this year? Last year's surely brightened the place up.

Yes, Kaoru-san. I know you're only here because he couldn't-- Because I found you first. I didn't know he'd be coming for you. Besides, you and Yahiko-kun are welcome here. The Oniwabanshu have never stinted on hospitality, and I know you've no other family to bow before your graves, both of you much too young, much, much too young. Would you want the Battousai visiting your family plot, Kaoru-san? We understand, but I don't know how you'd explain him to your parents.

Okon told me how the two of you fought beside the Oniwabanshu and whose blows it was felled Henya and Kamatari. You died among us; it's fitting that you should lie among us. Even he agrees.

Be kind to the Battousai when he visits, Kaoru-san. He's fallen so far, and this is the only home for his pain. When I kill him, I'll bring him here for you. I promise that. I'll plant flowers on his grave to help us all forget that he failed us. After all, he bought my life for us with his soul. I remember his blood on my face and the slash of unprepared for pain on his. If you cannot rest content here at least let him find what peace he can once it no longer matters.

No, Mi-chan, I haven't forgotten your question. I was just hoping you had. Oh, I see it is a good day. You look lovely, just the way I dream of you when I think… Why couldn't you have survived? The Battousai said he'd bring me back to you; I'm sorry he couldn't keep that promise to you, not the way he meant to.

It was very hot. I remember that clearly. Shishio craved the very heat that had almost killed him as if flames dancing around him echoed his victory over death, as if he could tolerate so much more than ordinary mortals. He'd built the place to stop even the slightest breeze from disturbing the heat. No wind would ever sweep through to clear the air.

After the Battousai left, I lay for a time on the floor. My back, my body, had become one with the mats; if it weren't for the flavor of hope on my breath, I'd not even have thought that I might be able to stand again. Hannya, Beshimi, Shikijou and Hoyottoko visited me, and I really heard their voices for the first time. Well, I'd heard them before; I just hadn't been listening. I thought I knew… I thought that hearing the dead meant something was wrong.

Eventually, the floor wouldn't accept me any longer, and I levered myself to my feet. At that point, it seemed the most sensible course to follow the Battousai. I knew that I might, if I were lucky, see the end of that fight. I expected something out of legend.

I knew Yumi'd lead them around the long way, so the time I'd spent recovering wouldn't really matter. Shishio'd not given me many of his secrets, but I was Oniwabanshu enough to have taken a few. Shishio wanted his opponents to feel themselves petitioners making a pilgrimage, but he had no desire to undertake anything so strenuous himself. He hoards his advantages, that one.

I arrived to see Shishio and the Battousai taking the measure of each other. Sagara stood a few steps back, behind the Battousai, and watched with an eager eye. I don't think he had the knowledge to understand the subtleties of the situation, not then at least. He saw the clash of wills and the attempts to prepare for the physical aspects of the confrontation, but he didn't see the minute shifts that indicated attacks and parries carried out only in the minds of the two combatants.

Shishio's woman, Yumi, stood to one side, watching him with the look of absolute adoration that had turned my stomach so on our first meeting. She is not a stupid woman, but she has no room for any bit of self or any other frivolity that does not serve her lover.

Houji had taken up position opposite Yumi. He kept his eyes fixed on Sagara. I think he suspected Sagara of the same sort of treachery of which he himself was already guilty.

It's impossible for me to say how long that initial confrontation would have lasted. The two men fought a battle that only another master of the sword could see. I thought at the time that I was the only such observer present. Saitoh Hajime must surely have appreciated the spectacle as well.

But young Soujiro interrupted.

"Good afternoon!" he announced himself. His cheerful voice and smile seemed to fill the arena and shattered the energy between Shishio and the Battousai as we all turned to look at him. My heart almost stopped when I saw him. He had a familiar figure slung over one shoulder, and some part of my mind was impressed that he could manage that much weight without changing his stride perceptibly. Then I noticed the blood dripping from his fingers; blood that had soaked through the blue bandage crudely tied around his bicep. It was only the worst of many sword wounds, and despite them all, he carried Okon with no sign of strain.

My stomach clenched. I recognized the uniform. Only the women of the Oniwabanshu dress that way. I thought she might be you, Mi-chan. Sometimes-- Please don't tell Okon-- Sometimes I wish it had been. But I know I didn't deserve it.

The Battousai recognized the clothing too. I saw his face change. It was just a momentary flicker of the profoundest loss as if the only thing giving meaning to his life had vanished. I don't think Shishio noticed. He was too busy looking pleased with himself.

"Soujiro-kun! I trust you met with success." He didn't even bother making it a question.

"Hai! Hai!" Soujiro's expression never changed. "I had to leave the body in order to bring the girl. The Aoiya was more trouble than we expected, but I could see that none of them could stand up to Fuji. I left him to do the cleaning up." He dumped Okon's body on the pavement and smiled sweetly. "Kamiya Kaoru as requested."

Sagara swore.

The Battousai said softly, "That is not Kaoru-dono."

Soujiro looked at him, still smiling, and replied, "Then I'm sorry Himura-san. Everybody else is dead."

I don't really remember much after that, at least not clearly. The fragments tell the story, I think, as well as it can be told. I drew my swords and threw myself forward. All I could think of was making sure that the authors of this horror followed you in death. I think that my scream was the first indication that any of them had had of my presence because none of them moved for a moment.

Then Shishio laughed. If he hadn't done that, I think I'd have attacked Soujiro. They stood close enough together that I could choose. I hope you don't mind that, Misao-chan-- but killing Soujiro to avenge you would be of no more purpose than shattering Shishio's sword.

Shishio moved almost lazily to parry my attack. His speed impressed me; he wasn't quite as fast as the Battousai, at least not with that response, but he was of the same breed. Still, I'd proved in fighting the Battousai that two blades can serve against one even when that one is faster.

I think I drew blood. I think. I hope. I must have done.

Then, Saitoh Hajime was there, attacking Soujiro. I saw little of it, having no attention to spare. I believe that his arrival was as much a surprise as mine. He marked Soujiro, leaving a wound that still scars the boy's face and neck. If Soujiro'd been a fraction slower…

I never saw Houji coming. He carried no blade, so I'd never considered him as a fighter. The first I knew was the rush of air as the Battousai approached, the noise as Houji's gun added one more foul odor to the miasma of the place. As I turned to face the new threat, I saw the Battousai's leap interrupted, disrupted, as the bullet hit him. I had to blink my eyes to clear his blood from them.

Yes, I owe him a debt, but I’d rather he hadn’t. I’d rather rest with you.

At any rate, I threw myself forward in a roll just in time to avoid Shishio's attack and ended up crouching on the other side of the Battousai.

Sagara screamed, "Kenshin!" and then shrieked obscenities as he raced toward Houji. I didn't see the blow, but I heard the crack as Houji's neck broke.

The Battousai's lips moved, but I couldn't hear his words. Nor did I have time to spare as Shishio pressed forward. I moved away from the Battousai, and Sagara rushed to his side to attempt to staunch the blood.

I'd like to think that, had I been fresh, I could have taken Shishio. Thank you for your confidence, Beshimi-kun, but we'll never know. Had I not just faced the Battousai… I lost. Not even pride can make me pretend otherwise. My double bladed style let me draw things out, however, parrying blows that might have destroyed another opponent.

Through it all, Shishio's eyes were on me, searching for the depths of my soul and finding that they no longer existed. The Battousai had already taken them.

Meanwhile, Saitoh was losing to Soujiro. Saitoh's style won't work against an opponent who is simply not there, and his legs were bleeding in a way that spoke of deep wounds under the bandages. As he fought, he began urging Sagara to leave, to get out while he could.

Sagara only shook his head and focused on the Battousai. The grimness on his face said louder than any words that he wasn't sure he could save his friend.

Saitoh began a fighting retreat that drew Soujiro away from the rest of us. So long as I kept Shishio busy, Sagara'd easily have been able to escape.

Sagara stood.

Shishio smiled and called out, "Yumi, see to the Battousai." He laughed then.

Sagara walked forward slowly, and our eyes met. For that moment, words weren't necessary. His expression told me that he wouldn't leave without the Battousai and that he knew I wouldn't leave without Okon. There was a funny almost smile on his face as he stretched his fingers before clenching them into fists. He nodded to me. "Get her the fuck out of here." There was only the slightest hint of his normal cockiness in his tone.

I stepped back to let him take over the fight. If we left now, Okon would certainly live. If Sagara moved the Battousai, the outcome was not so certain.

Shishio nodded at me before turning to face Sagara fully. "You're too broken to use," he told me. He appraised Sagara. "I'd much rather have this one."

I walked over to Okon and lifted her in my arms. I didn't look back as I walked away. I didn't think Sagara would want me to.

Yes, Mi-chan. That's why I won't fight Sagara. The debt we owe him is greater than that to the Battousai. The Battousai acted in the only way he could, being the man he was; I doubt he gave a thought to the consequences. Sagara made a choice. Sagara had made no promises to anyone.

After I'd taken Okon to a safe place and cared for her wounds, I visited the Aoiya to find all of you. Some part of me hoped when I saw the giant's body, but… The fire finished his work. You were so badly burned that I couldn't tell which of you was which, so I cradled each of you carefully as I carried you out of the ruins. I wanted to be sure, Mi-chan, that you knew that the Battousai had kept his promise as well as he could.

All I could do was bring you here. I knew that Hannya, Beshimi, Shikijou and Hoyottoko would help you accept being dead. I hoped then that you'd truly rest and stop asking me why and what had happened to make me fail you so.

No, Mi-chan. I'm not sorry that you're still here. Not really. I need you. How else would I know what I'm supposed to do? Are you sure there isn't something specific I can do for you now? The story's almost over, and I need to know what to do next. Are you lonely? I've thought about finding a husband for you. I'm too old for you; I've always been too old, too broken. When I see the boys your age, I wonder. I think about one of them with you, how you'd look as a couple. That would have made me happy, I think, seeing you happy.

I left the giant; I knew he wasn't ours. Everyone else… I made you all stones when we got here. I made them as pretty as I could. Do you like yours, Mi-chan? I don't know which one's really yours, but you're all friends. I didn't think you'd mind too much if I got the names wrong. We always make offerings at all of the graves; even the Battousai does.

You're crying again. Please don't cry. Even if it's only echoes, I like it better when you laugh. Tell me what to do next. Please… tell me what I need to do so you won't cry anymore?

Hai, Okashira.


	3. Chapter 3

Megumi woke feeling warm for the first time in a weeks. Her body's instinct was to deny that she was awake and curl back up. She knew that she ought to get up. She had to talk to Kenshin, to persuade him to let her stay. She needed to stay at least long enough to know if Saitoh really deserved Kenshin's hatred and to decide where she stood in the matter.

The situation had seemed straightforward when Saitoh first discussed it with her. Most of her friends had died at Shishio's hand, and Dr. Gensai had packed up his granddaughters and moved, seeking safety. They hadn't known then if Shishio would pursue Kenshin's associates. She'd decided then that she'd rather face the danger head on and had stayed in Tokyo.

And nothing had happened.

Well, she had found that patients with money no longer came her way. Without Dr. Gensai's sponsorship, she was insufficiently respectable. She probably could have kept herself going by providing care for whores in the brothels. The competent proprietors were willing to pay for that sort of thing. But she couldn't do it. She'd been down that road before, and it had led her to Kanryuu.

So she'd gone looking for her family. Somehow, her cousins had heard about her "activities." The very least that they demanded was that she stop using the family name and cease practicing medicine. She had, they said, shamed them. Oh, they'd been prepared to be kind and had offered to help her marry. Her great-aunt suggested that Dr. Gensai seemed like a reasonable candidate, a widower with orphaned granddaughters. He might even be willing to let her assist him in his practice; that would "protect" her family while still letting her use her skills.

She had even considered the possibility. Dr. Gensai would probably at least consider it. She suspected that he'd have asked her long ago if he hadn't realized that her heart was engaged. They could be comfortable together for the rest of his life.

But she couldn't do that. 

It was considering Dr. Gensai and his decision to hide that led her back to Saitoh. She'd understood; Dr. Gensai had Ayame and Suzume to consider after all. She, on the other hand, had stayed in Tokyo prepared to face an enemy who hadn't come. Very well, she'd take the first step toward confrontation.

Saitoh Hajime had greeted her with a courtesy and patience that told her immediately that there was in fact something she could do for him. She'd been a little shocked at the suggestion that she seduce one of Shishio's lieutenants, but… It made a painful sense.

Seducing Chou was something she'd been fully prepared to do. She'd studied what Saitoh could tell her about him and, after consulting with Saitoh, had decided to attempt to draw the man's attention at the bar. One of Saitoh's people had let her know when Chou and Soujiro arrived; she couldn't keep up pretensions of poverty if she went in there drinking every night. Besides, her desperation would be less than convincing if she had to beat off other potential lovers.

Seducing Kenshin… It wasn't going to happen. He wanted too much to be rid of her. She'd have to win each hour, each day, from him until he became used to her presence. How to go about it—

Her ruminations were cut off by the sound of a familiar voice.

"Kenshin, you sick fuck—" The shoji separating the room from the hallway splintered as a fist drove through it. "What the hell have you done with her?"

Megumi sat up and threw her arms in front of her face to protect against flying debris. The voice was familiar, even the tone, but she'd never heard Sanosuke direct such vitriol at Kenshin.

When she lowered her arms, she saw Sanosuke standing in the corridor. Gone were the white pants and loose jacket. Sanosuke wore dark grey gi and hakama, and a black shirt covered his chest where the gi opened. The red bandana still wrapped around his head, though-- his memento of the Sekihoutai. She wondered at that. Sanosuke's eyes met hers, and he nodded, looking for all the world as if his darkest suspicions had been confirmed.

"Sanosuke." Kenshin's voice came from the hallway, behind Sanosuke. Megumi recognized that tone; Kenshin always used it as a last warning that he was about to use whatever force was necessary to prevent some barrier from being crossed.

Megumi stood. She smoothed her robe then restrained herself from attempting to untangle her hair. The two men weren't even looking at her any more. She noted that Kenshin was carrying a tray. She rather suspected that it contained her breakfast, and her stomach grumbled.

"Kenshin! That's Megumi! You can't treat her like a tavern whore!" Sanosuke drew back an arm, bandage-wrapped fist clenched.

Megumi winced a little. There might, just might, be people in the city who hadn't heard those words.

Kenshin's eyes narrowed. He transferred the tray entirely to one hand.

Before he could move further, Megumi stepped forward. "Good morning, Sano, Kenshin-san." She smiled at both of them and reached for the tray. "Is that for me? Thank you! How thoughtful." She looked directly at Sano and said, "Kenshin gave me his bed last night. I had no money, and no place else to go. Kenshin has been entirely courteous." She glared at Sano and Kenshin equally, falling back on old habits. Had the shoji been intact, she'd have slammed it in their faces. As it was, she could only stand there holding the tray and waiting for some sign of contrition.

Sanosuke muttered something under his breath that she pretended not to hear and held his ground. Kenshin's stance relaxed a trifle.

Megumi clutched at the tray to keep from trembling as her common sense asserted itself, telling her that she had just done something that could have been very stupid. Neither of these men were who they had been, and the changes could be lethal.

All three of them were surprised by low laughter from further down the hall, behind Kenshin. "What a charmingly domestic scene!" A bandaged figure who Megumi could only assume must be Shishio strolled toward them.

Both her friends' body language changed. Sanosuke slouched, adolescent defiance settling over him like a second skin. Kenshin, on the other hand, completely dropped his aggressive posture and bowed slightly toward Shishio. Megumi thought she perceived just a trace of irritation in his expression, but if it was actually there, it was nearly as well disguised as Kenshin the warrior had ever been by Kenshin the clown.

"Shishio-san," Kenshin began. "This is Takani Megumi—"

Shishio waved a hand. "An old friend, Himura?" He looked at her. His eyes swept over her entire body, and she flinched. His smile broadened. He walked forward and gave her a very slight bow which she returned with greater depth. "Takani-san, you are most welcome. A friend of Himura's—"

Sanosuke's growl was more than audible.

Megumi bowed even more deeply, hampered a little by the tray in her hands. "Thank you, sir. Your hospitality honors me." She didn't dare look at either of the other men. "I… I had nowhere else to go, so Kenshin-san…" She couldn't bring herself to finish. She knew Kenshin would be angry at her for what she was doing.

Shishio tilted his head to one side. His smile told her that, although he conversed with her, his words were meant for Kenshin and Sanosuke. "No place else to go? We've space to spare. A lovely lady like yourself could only do us a service by staying."

Megumi was certain that Shishio knew as well as she did that, if the other two men were at each other's throats over where she had spent one night, they'd continue to fight so long as she was around. She rather thought that he liked the idea. She didn't care for it. Her stomach roiled and knotted at the thought, but… She supposed it was better than sleeping with Chou.

She hoped.

*****  
"Wake up, Himura-san." The persistent voice simply wouldn't leave him alone. But no one worth waking up for would call him Himura-san.

He turned his head away from the sound. He didn't want to be awake. He smelled incense, and beneath it, smoke-- not woodsmoke-- but a somehow unclean, charred kind of scent.

Fingers tapped his cheek. "Himura-san." The voice sounded impatient.

He opened his eyes just a little. Denial didn't seem to be working.

Soujiro's smile filled his field of vision.

Kenshin tried to turn away again, but Soujiro extended a hand to block the movement.

"Himura-san, there's nowhere to run."

Kenshin tried to growl a denial, but his body told him that, even if there were a place to run to, he wouldn't be able to move. He opened his eyes a little wider and made himself really look at Soujiro.

Soujiro wore a bandage on his face and neck, and one of his arms was in a sling.

Kenshin thought that ought to mean more to him, but he couldn't be bothered to think why. He sighed and started to close his eyes. There was something important he ought to remember… Oh. That was why he didn't want to wake. "Shisho," he murmured. "Misao. Yahiko…" The other name he couldn't speak aloud. Kaoru…

"All dead, Himura-san." Kenshin thought he detected a hint of malice in Soujiro's voice although the boy's eyes remained sweetly rounded. That puzzled him; he'd not thought Soujiro capable of showing even that much emotion. "You cannot protect the weak."

I failed. Kenshin started to close his eyes again. His body, his consciousness were burdens he didn't want.

"No." Soujiro spoke in a tone of command. "You have not earned that."

He felt too empty to question the boy's statement. He met Soujiro's eyes. "What do you want?"

Soujiro smiled, letting his eyes almost close. "Shishio-san asked me to look after you. Do you need anything?"

"No." Now go away.

"Good." Soujiro made no move to leave. After a moment, he spoke again, "Why did you do it, Himura-san? Shinomori Aoshi was weak."

Kenshin forced a laugh, keeping it small in hopes of not moving anything that would hurt too badly. "He fought me in your place, that he did." Why did I save him? I don't remember even thinking about it.

Soujiro inclined his head to one side, conceding a point. "But you beat him."

Oh, yes, that was it. "I made a promise." I made more than one promise…

Soujiro raised his eyebrows, a slight furrow marring the nearly angelic perfection of his face. "But you beat him."

"Yes." There was something about Soujiro's puzzlement… Kenshin knew he should follow up on it, figure out what produced it, do something about it. But he was tired. He had nothing left of himself.

He turned away. His futon was in the center of floor; aside from a chest of dark wood bearing a pitcher, it was the only furniture in the room. There was a single scroll on the wall, a watercolor of cranes.

Silence, mutual incomprehension, stretched between them. Finally, Soujiro said, "Shishio-san was quite impressed by your friend."

Friend?

"Even if he was rude to Yumi-san."

Sano. Sano should have been able to run. "What happened?" Sano wouldn't run. Kenshin felt his eyelids start to close and pushed them open again.

Soujiro laughed, and Kenshin heard echoes of Shishio in the boy's voice. "Sagara-san killed Houji; then Shishio-san defeated him. I didn't see it." The boy sounded almost peeved. "I was chasing Saitoh-san."

The analytic corner of Kenshin's brain noted that Sanosuke and Saitoh both rated an honorific while Houji and Aoshi did not. He wondered if Shishio's administrative aide had been given a "san" before his death. The rest of Kenshin's mind mourned his friend. Sanosuke might have been tough, but Shishio'd have finished him off with no trouble.

"Shishio-san has been paying very personal attention to Sagara-san," Soujiro added.

Kenshin started. The physical pain the movement caused him gave him a distraction from Soujiro's words. The realization that Sanosuke was alive only increased his grief.

"Sagara-san stopped screaming a while ago." This time, Kenshin was certain there was malice in Soujiro's tone. "Before his voice broke, he kept calling for you. I think he really expected you to come."

This time, when Kenshin closed his eyes, Soujiro made no effort to recall him.

Every time Kenshin woke thereafter, Soujiro was there with food and water, gentle hands and poisoned words.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are three sections in this chapter. The first and third are Megumi's point of view and much in keeping with her sections so far. The second section is in first person and contains rape (not even remotely graphic) and torture (kind of graphic) and general nastiness. It matters to understanding why Sanosuke is the way he is, but I think it might well be skippable if it's something that would trouble you.

By the end of her first day in Shishio's household, Megumi had reached several conclusions. The first was that, whatever Kenshin might do, Saitoh Hajime undoubtedly deserved it. The second was that she couldn't allow Kenshin to kill Saitoh until someone else stood as a credible obstacle to Shishio's ambitions. The third was that she'd been very lucky to have been given a room of her own. She'd spotted Sanosuke lurking at the end of the hall, watching, she was sure, to see if she went to her bed alone.

Shishio had directed Sanosuke to make sure that Megumi had a chance to bathe. "There are matters I must discuss with you, Himura," he'd said. "Sagara-kun can look after her for the moment; I'll send Yumi along later to get her properly settled."

Kenshin inclined his head just enough to acknowledge Shishio's words. "Shishio-san." He turned a glare on Sanosuke that the taller man returned full force. Then he looked at Megumi. "Your pardon, Megumi-san. I will see you later."

As the two older men departed, Sanosuke looked at Megumi with apparent concern. "Are you all right, Megumi? Chou said—"

Megumi frowned. So that was how Sanosuke had known. "I'm fine, Sano. I just want to eat and wash." She looked around then decided that she didn't need a table and knelt to put the tray on the floor.

Sanosuke shifted his weight from one foot to another. "You staying in there?"

She looked up at him with deliberate blankness. "Until I finish eating."

He looked uncertain.

She gave him a small smile. "I would welcome your company if you don't smash anything else."

He gave her a long look that she couldn't interpret then sat, sprawling untidily across the hallway, blocking it totally. The remains of the ruined shoji lay between them, and she realized that he'd seated himself in the hallway rather than step into Kenshin's room. After a moment, he noticed her stare and flushed a little. "I'm not allowed in."

Megumi focused her attention on her food and gave no answer. The sulkiness in his tone disturbed her deeply. The man she remembered had more maturity. After a moment, she spoke again, "Did Chou also tell you that—" She stopped and shook her head. "Sano, I spent the last of my money last night. Or would have if I'd paid for my own sake. If Kenshin hadn't brought me home, I'd have ended up with someone else. As it is… I had a bed with no company." She kept her eyes cast down as she spoke.

"Megumi—" There was pain in his voice, but she refused to look up. "Megumi, he's the Battousai now. Worse than that, really."

"I know." Sanosuke made a noise of surprise or, perhaps, of protest, and she turned on him, setting down her bowl to point at him. "You! You're gone for months, and you think I've become stupid!" She stopped, took a deep breath and continued, "It was obvious from the way he spoke, the way he moved." Just as, she added silently, it's obvious that something is very wrong with you. She looked at the floor again. "I'm just glad," she whispered, "that you're both still alive. You sent no word." She couldn't quite keep the accusation from her voice or stop the tears rolling down her face. "What was I supposed to think?"

He didn't answer. When she looked up a few minutes later, she found that he was gazing fixedly at some point down the hallway. She closed her eyes for a moment in mourning for the man he had been. He'd always had the brashness and certainty that went with purity of intent. He'd have hated having anyone say that, have pointed at his perpetual debts, at the gambling and the drinking and the freeloading, but… Her lips tightened slightly. She could use him, use Kenshin, as they were now. Maybe she could even save them.

****

I got a helluva a lot of scars for someone my age. And each of 'em has a story. Course the stories are mostly bullshit. Truth's not something I'll give to just anyone.

Truth is, I don't actually know where I got half of 'em. Well, I know where. Kinda. 

See this one? It's a bite. Skin broken, flesh ripped.

I don't know how I got it.

Oh, I know who did it and technically how. You measure it, find the bastard's jaw, it'll match. But I wasn't there. Yeah, I musta been. Not like I could leave. But…

Hell's not a place you try to remember. Don't hafta try. Nothing on earth'll help you forget. I been there before a time or two. Some morons think they're the only ones, but I know. We all get there eventually. It's getting back out that's hard.

Want to know what Hell is? Picture it—

You're in a stone room, in the very center. Your hands’re chained over your head. You can move one a little if you're willing to risk pulling the other shoulder outta its socket. Your feet’re chained to the floor, enough give to move a coupla inches. There's a draft tickling your feet, sneaking up your legs, and you're glad you still got your clothes.

At least until you realize you gotta piss.

You can hear all sorts of noises. None of 'em mean anything. Yet.

Did I mention your body already hurts all over? You didn't go easy getting there. Not a fucking volunteer. Not you.

So you kinda stand there, kinda hang there. Waiting.

When they do come, you're almost glad. Anything's gotta be better than waiting.

But it isn't. You try to swap one liners while the other guy wants a monologue, but that doesn't last.

A few blows to the belly settle the question of whether you're gonna piss your pants. And the smiling bastard pretends you had a choice. So he plays for a while, seeing what noises he can get out of you. You try not to play. It's just the two of you. His hands, your body. His game, your pain.

He says he'll leave you with something you can't forget. And he's right. He does your feet.

You can't sit, can't take weight off except by trying to pull up and grab the chains. And your hands can't do it long. You slip back down again. Burns and welts between your weight and cold, rough stone. You can't decide if you lose if you cry when he's not watching.

And he comes back. Sometimes alone, sometimes not. It doesn't matter.

And there's no food. He'll give you water, never enough, but water.

He leaves you in your clothes until you shit yourself. Then he has someone else strip you and pour water over you. And you're glad. Glad.

But it's cold when he's not there. Sometimes, your skin turns blue. And the bitch stops by and laughs and laughs. She says he's doing it for her, 'cause you touched her. You know it's not true, but you can't remember anymore.

You do cry when he's there now. Scream, too, a lot. You forget why you're there, what happened. You call for people who can't come. And he reminds you. Again. And he twists things in your head. Or tries. You know he's lying. People with power always lie. You can't remember anymore how you learned that, but you know it's true.

So you fight. It's all in your head now, so he doesn't know. He's got your body, thinks he's got you.

Now he feeds you. Sometimes he's almost kind. He's telling you he'll do for you what no one else can, no one else will. He'll take care of you. You just have to be his.

Your mind goes away sometimes, letting him have your body. You learned that a long time ago. It's a trick he never learned, doesn't know. You can't always escape, but you try.

You're sick now. Lotsa little infections. Feet are worst 'cause you're standing in your own piss and shit. You know when he's coming 'cause someone cleans the floor and pours more water on you each time. Incense for the stench.

Then one day, he has 'em take you down. You can't move much, certainly can't fight. They wash you. Real soap and soft cloths. You bleed of course, and some bits leak pus. But it feels good. So very good. Then they lay you on a futon. You didn't see 'em bring it in. Except for him, you just don't notice anything beyond your own skin anymore.

You lie there and wait. As much as you can think, you know what comes next. The next step in his dance. And you're supposed to be grateful. And you are. Almost.

But he says he'll make you forget. Forget Saitoh. Forget Kenshin. Forget Sagara-taiicho. All the men who didn't measure up, didn't give you what you wanted, what you needed. Then he rapes you, reaching into you in ways he hadn't before. You cry, but you don't fight, not any way he can see.

But he shouldn'ta said the names. Or shoulda left Sagara-taiicho outta it. 

He's not the first to break you. You been to Hell a time or two before and always climbed back out.

You let him do what he wants. But you kill the poor bastard sent in to clean you up again. And you break the cell door. You can't really think, though, and your body can't do it.

When you wake again, you're chained like nothing happened. And he hurts you. He unchains you and pounds your head into the floor. You can't fight him, so you grovel. You bow your neck with a sneer on your lips.

That sneer's all you got left, so you hold it tight. You wear his leash like an obedient dog and hope. He wants you cold, so you cling to rage. Sometimes it burns you. But that's the one place he can't follow you, can't drag you out of. No matter what he does.

And one day, he stops trying. And you find out that room's only the gate. The real Hell follows you. He says, "Kill," and you kill. Your mind's not his, but it's not yours either. Not anymore. That sneer and that rage gotta life of their own now, and you don't care enough to keep 'em in.

That's Hell.

Tea, please. Booze lets the rage out.

*****

Yumi proved a pleasant surprise. Megumi'd been prepared to meet hostility from Shishio's mistress, but the other woman smiled at her and expressed the hope that they could become friends. "I've brought some clothing for you to try on, Takani-san. Shishio-sama said that you might not have much." Yumi shook out a deep blue kimono and held it up in front of Megumi. "Yes, the color suits you."

Megumi extended a careful hand to touch the cloth. It was silk, finer than anything she'd ever worn before. "I couldn't," she said. She shook her head slightly, not wanting to be insulting. "I'm a stranger to you," she explained. "Why should you be so kind to me?"

Yumi laughed and shrugged; how she kept her kimono from sliding down her arms entirely was a mystery. "You're a friend of Himura-san's aren't you? Besides, Shishio-sama provides well for me, more than well enough to share." Her face suddenly went stiff, and she looked sideways at Megumi.

Megumi'd seen enough in her life to recognize the reaction. "You're very lucky, Komagata-san," she said softly, allowing a certain wistfulness into her face and voice. "Very few women find such a man, and the world is unkind to a woman on her own." She tugged gently at the cloth, taking it into her own hands. "I'll try this on. Then perhaps we can figure out some way to salvage my hair!"

Yumi's face lost its guarded look. "I do think it will suit you." She stood quietly, studying Megumi as she tried on the garment.

"Here." Yumi adjusted the fall of the kimono, pulling the shoulders further from Megumi's neck, widening the stretch of bare skin. "There. Is it true that you know Sagara-san too?"

Megumi fought the urge to pull the kimono up, to cover herself. "I lived near the Kamiya Dojo," she replied. "Sano was often there for one reason or another." She looked at Yumi blankly for a moment, wondering if the other woman had any idea, any at all, what that really meant. Did Yumi believe that Megumi didn't know--? Megumi removed the towel that had held her hair and reached for a brush. 

Yumi considered the length of Megumi's hair, and said, "You might try gathering it low at the neck; I've some ornaments you could use to pin it. Then again, keeping it down does make you seem younger, more… in need of a protector."

As Megumi wound her hair into an elaborate bun, she said, “How big is the household?"

"That depends." Yumi shrugged a little. "If we're talking about people who count, you and I are the only women. There are many servants. Of the men, well, they come and go. Except for Shishio-sama, of course."

Megumi noted that every time Yumi mentioned Shishio a dreamy look crossed her face. "What about Kenshin and Sanosuke?" She thought she'd better establish the direction of her interest.

"Sagara-san is here mostly right now. He's still training. Himura-san is away more often." Megumi could find no hint that Yumi had any interest at all in what Kenshin might do when he was away. No, she thought, that isn't quite right. She doesn't care as long as it's what Shishio wants.

"Well, right now, they're both here. I'm glad. If Kenshin hadn't brought me home, I'd either be on the streets or have sold myself for shelter, and if Sano hadn't made such a fuss, Shishio-sama might not have even known I was here, and then we might not have met." She shot a smile at Yumi.

Yumi gave a small laugh, discreetly cloaked by a sleeve. "You do elicit… unexpected… reactions from them." Her amusement seemed genuine, but her eyes probed sharply for Megumi's response. "You should be flattered."

"I am," Megumi replied. "But… Won't my presence upset things?"

"It'll be all right," Yumi assured her. "If you're ready, I'll show you the rest of the house."


	5. Chapter 5

Megumi walked toward her room. She sighed and stopped for a second to rub her neck. One of the maids had fallen and broken her arm, or so she said. Judging by the fear in the woman's eyes when she spoke, there was more to it, but she'd stuck to her story, blaming her own carelessness. In another household, Megumi might have pushed. Not here. Not now. Shishio declared the weak to be meat for the strong.

So Megumi'd set the arm, offered salve for bruises and hinted that she might provide abortificiants. She thought that all the women in the household knew that, but… She hated being helpless and had stayed later than she needed to.

As she padded toward the cross corridor, she held her lamp up. She didn't expect to encounter anyone except guards, and they all feared Kenshin and Sanosuke enough to leave her be, but she'd found that life was easier if they saw her clearly. She suppressed a snort of amusement thinking what a difference two weeks made. Her definition of "normal" had changed radically.

She glanced down the corridor and frowned. The guard was not visible. The flickering light of the lantern rippled along the polished boards of the floor like sunlight on water, making it impossible to see into the shadows. Katsu'd have the man beaten if he found out. She hesitated then turned. If the guard was sleeping, she'd wake him. Katsu didn't seem to relish the role of disciplinarian, and she could use friends among Shishio's foot soldiers. 

She found the man sprawled, bleeding, just inside one of the doorways. She knelt to see if he was alive and set her lamp down on the floor beside her. Her fingers found no pulse, but the body was still warm.

Steel touched her neck, and she froze. A voice she recognized spoke very softly, "Another fly in Shishio's web. You should have used that knife I gave you. Do you regret it now?"

She remained motionless for a second, trying to maintain a façade of calm. "Shinomori-san," she whispered. "This is a surprise."

Shinomori's sword didn't waver as he moved into her field of vision. He frowned a little, pensively. "They didn't tell me you'd be here." Then he smiled, and Megumi thought the smile more frightening than his frown. It was a fey expression. "Oh, I see, Kaoru-san. That explains why you came along. I thought you wanted to see me kill the Battousai. Don't worry; you'll hold him in your arms again. I promise you."

Megumi's eyes widened a little. So far as she could tell, there was no one else in the room, and besides, Kaoru was dead. "Shinomori-san?"

His expression held the angular attention of one trying to focus on an opponent while still listening politely to someone standing beside him. "Hai." He gave Megumi his full attention again. "Will you give us your word that you won't scream? It would be inconvenient."

She swallowed then nodded slightly. Shinomori lowered his blade. She raised a hand to her throat. As if that would make a difference if he changed his mind… "I don't want to cause you any trouble," she said dryly.

He smiled again, this time at her. It was a beautiful smile, softening the planes and angles of his face into something that looked almost peaceful, almost innocent. "All you need to do is tell me where the Battousai is sleeping." He bent and offered her a hand up from the floor. He was thinner than when she'd last seen him, and more pale. His hair was longer, too. The uniform was the same, though.

She accepted his hand and rose. "He's not here tonight," she replied. "Shishio-sama wanted someone killed. Could you come back next week?"

Shinomori stared at her for a moment before laughing softly. "You've gained a sense of humor, Takani-san. I didn't expect that."

She responded seriously, "Not gained. Rediscovered." She squared her shoulders. "What are you going to do with me now?"

"Courage too. How odd. The Battousai changed people." He suddenly turned his head as if looking at someone else who was speaking and, after a moment, nodded before looking back at Megumi. "We don't want Shishio holding you responsible for letting us get away, so—" He broke off for a moment. "Do you want to stay?" He stepped toward her and brushed one of her cheeks with his fingertips. "You don't have to. We can hide you. We can protect you."

She closed her eyes. There was nothing remotely sexual in his gesture, but there was something seductive about his madness. It was a gentler thing than what rode Sanosuke and more alive than what paralyzed Kenshin. She leaned into his hand for just a moment, enjoying the warmth of his skin on hers, and his hand curved gently to cup her face. His sword calluses seemed less threatening than Sanosuke's, less of an armor than Kenshin's. She sighed then stepped back. Tears blurred her vision, and when she spoke, her voice broke a little.

"I can't. I'm needed here." She turned her head away. "Thank you, Shinomori-san. It's a greater kindness than anyone's offered me recently."

"My Okashira would be angry if I didn't offer."

Megumi started at hearing him ascribe the title to another. When she'd known him, he'd had no identity beyond that title, hadn't seemed to think any possible.

"I know she'll be sorry to have missed meeting you. We've heard a lot about you from Kaoru-san and Yahiko-kun. I haven't told her what I know; she doesn't like to be reminded of where I went wrong."

She looked back at him. "Do you speak to them often? Are they… Are they happy now?" She didn't know why she asked. What he saw wasn't, couldn't be, real. Of course, in a world where she crept back to her room after patching up a rape victim to possibly face the same fate herself from one of the men she had loved… What was real?

"Sometimes. Sometimes, they are I think. I buried them in a grove outside Tokyo. It's very peaceful there. That's why I picked it originally-- Yes, Kaoru-san. I'm getting to that. You must tell the Battousai. Kaoru-san wants him to visit her. He promised they'd be together again in Tokyo."

Megumi's mind had stopped at the thought of transporting bodies so far. She couldn't imagine doing it, not without greater resources than Shinomori had probably had. When she realized that Shinomori was expecting a response from her, her thoughts had to scramble to catch up. "I can tell him, but…" She wasn't sure how to explain.

"Tell him that we mustn't fight there. Neither Kaoru-san nor Misao-chan would be pleased by that. I will expect him to be on his best behavior."

"Neutral ground?" Megumi asked.

Shinomori nodded. "Yes. Well, it belongs to the Oniwabanshu. It's just that we won't bother him there. Anyone else… You're welcome to visit, Megumi-san. Sagara-san as well." He turned again, respectfully listening. "We'd like that very much."

She blinked. "I don't think Sanosuke can visit," she said gently. Sanosuke might be able to keep himself respectfully under control, but she wouldn't want to depend on it. "He has…" she trailed off, realizing that she couldn't explain.

Shinomori gave her a look of polite inquiry but didn't seem to care much whether or not she went on. "Please tell Sagara-san—privately—that I am aware of my debt to him. He will know what I mean."

She bowed slightly. "I will tell them both." She straightened. "You should go. I do not think Shishio-sama would choose to let you leave once the alarm is given."

"Why haven't you tried to summon help?" He sounded genuinely curious.

She gave him a sharp look. "Because I don't want to die," she snapped.

He shook his head. "If that were true, you wouldn't be staying." His eyes-- eyes that she had once seen as frozen grey, old and fissured ice, now looked blue-- met hers for a moment, and she almost thought that he was seeing her heart. "The knife would have been simpler. Cleaner."

She felt her expression flatten, and she reminded herself that talking to the dead was not a sign of perceptiveness or, at least, not something to seek in a source for advice and life direction. "It is my choice." The words came out colder than she'd intended.

He gave her a half smile and nodded as if she's said something very profound. "You too have a debt to pay—" He tensed suddenly.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor. 

Megumi turned her back to Shinomori and stepped backward toward him. 

One of his arms circled her waist, pulling her body against his own, and the edge of a blade touched her throat. 

"I'll be visiting the apothecary tomorrow or the next day. Leave the directions there." She kept her voice low enough that whoever was approaching shouldn't hear her words.

His breath tickled the back of her neck as he whispered, "My kodachi would be kinder than whatever Shishio will do to the poor bastard."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short, but it seemed better to break where I did.

Megumi had known something like this was coming. How could she not? She'd simply hoped it wouldn't come so soon. Or quite so publicly. "Choose, my lord?" She carefully didn't look at Shishio. Or at any of the other watchers. She felt their eyes upon her like weights. She wondered a little that she could keep standing under it all.

"It's simple enough. You've two suitors. As I'd rather they not kill each other over you, you may choose."

As if Sanosuke stood a chance against Kenshin if they actually did fight.

In the two months she'd been in Shishio's household, Megumi had concluded that neither man actually wanted her. They each merely wanted to be sure that the other didn't have her. Each thought the other too dangerous for her.

And they are, she admitted to herself, but I'm stronger than they think.

She bowed her head and thought. She couldn't lose track of why she was actually here, and as Kenshin's woman, she would be closer to Shishio's plans. But Kenshin was unlikely to tell her anything, and she couldn't abandon Sanosuke. And she loved them both, even as they were now. How could she choose?

Don't lie to Shishio. Saitoh's warning echoed in her head. Would this actually be a lie? Was a choice the same thing as a lie when she didn't want to choose? She wasn't sure, but she knew she didn't have much time. Shishio was not a patient man. No, that wasn't right. He could be terribly, horribly patient when it suited him. Right now, however, he expected her prompt answer.

She raised her head and looked around the room. Everyone who mattered in the household was present much as she might wish they weren't. Shishio had apparently decided to make a show of her choice. Of his kindness in giving her a choice. She had no illusions about where she stood in Shishio's hierarchy. Her attachment to Kenshin and Sanosuke-- or rather theirs to her-- was all that kept her from being as open to abuse as the lowliest kitchen maid.

Her eyes touched on Sanosuke. He looked angry, but then he always looked angry. His eyes caught hers, and she thought he was urging her to choose him. Kenshin's face was blank, as if he didn't care, but when his eyes touched on Sanosuke, they flashed amber, just for an instant.

Will they abide by my choice? If Shishio requires it, probably. Possibly. But--

"I cannot choose." She met Shishio's eyes for an instant then looked at the floor in front of her. Her shoulders sagged a little. Not choosing was itself a choice. She suspected Shishio would give her to Kenshin simply because Kenshin stood higher in his regard, was more useful than Sanosuke.

Shishio laughed. Everyone else was silent.

Megumi looked up.

Shishio beckoned Yumi closer and whispered something in her ear.

She smiled and whispered back. She met Megumi's eyes and gave her an encouraging nod.

Megumi offered a wan smile in return. Yumi had come very close to being a friend in the past two months. Megumi thought the other woman glad to have another woman with status in the household. Shishio would always come first, of course, but he often didn't have time for Yumi so that she had sometimes been left with no one before Megumi came.

Yumi said something further to Shishio.

Megumi wished desperately that she knew what they were discussing. She didn't think Yumi would suggest anything really terrible, but what wasn't terrible about this situation? She looked again at Sanosuke and Kenshin. She wished she could speak to them. But what would she say? She couldn't bear giving up on either of them.

Shishio straightened in his chair. He ran his eyes over Megumi, and she wondered, for the briefest moment, if he meant to claim her for himself. But Yumi would hardly look so pleased by that, and she did look pleased.

He let her wait for a moment longer. Then he said, "I suppose there's no reason you have to choose. I'm sure Himura and Sagara-kun are capable of being civilized, of sharing your attention."

His smile made Megumi want to shudder, but she had better self control than that. She raised her chin and waited to hear the rest of what he had to say.

"One week with each," Shishio went on. "Himura the first week then Sagara-kun the following week." He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Alternating weeks thereafter until you make up your mind. You will keep your current room, too. We have space enough for that. It will save moving your things back and forth."

Megumi swallowed hard. There really wasn't anything to say. "Thank you, Shishio-sama." At least, she thought, I don't have to choose.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would call this in the realm of dubious consent rather than out and out noncon, but... Definitions vary. Nobody gets hurt physically, and nothing is explicit.
> 
> This chapter is also short. I considered combining it with the previous chapter, but I thought it better not to.

Megumi wasn't at all sure what to expect the first night with Kenshin. He hadn't seemed at all interested in her, physically, since she arrived, but she knew he took Shishio's commands seriously, and Shishio's intentions had been perfectly clear.

When she came to his room, he greeted her with a nod and said nothing.

She knelt beside the bed and waited. She noted, without letting herself think about it too much, that this was a bigger mattress than he'd had before. Big enough for two. The blankets, too, were wider. The maids had placed those at the foot of the bed, and Megumi guessed that that meant they'd be doing something other than just sleeping.

Kenshin turned away from her and started to disrobe.

Megumi fumbled with her own clothes. She had to stop and take a deep breath, in an effort to calm herself. You knew this was coming, she told herself. Even as he is now, he won't hurt you. This may not be pleasant, but it won't be because he's being cruel.

When they were both naked, Kenshin knelt on the bed. He looked at her. There was no pleasure in his expression but also no judgment. He might have been looking at anything at all.

She moved to the bed next to him and waited for him to do something, anything. She didn't think that reaching out to him would be welcomed, but she wanted to touch him. She wanted to draw some sort of reaction from him, something to tell her that Kenshin, the man she had known, was still somewhere inside. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and waited.

He touched her arm, just the merest brush of fingers against her skin. "Lie down."

She inhaled sharply but said nothing. Instead, she laid herself flat on her back and looked up at the ceiling so that she wouldn't have to look at him.

He gave her pleasure before he took his own; though she wasn't sure that any part of it was actually pleasurable for him. She had the feeling that he was moving by rote, that he had a list and was simply checking items off on it. Even when his breath hissed between his teeth as he reached completion, his face was blank. She doubted he even saw her. She might have been any woman.

After he pulled out, she helped him spread the blankets, and she lay down next to him with her back to him. She held herself stiff and still and waited, hoping he would sleep. Once she thought he had fallen asleep, she allowed herself to cry.

The rest of the week was much the same. Kenshin treated her tenderly, but he seemed to have no real interest in sex. No, she thought, it wasn't that. He enjoyed the release of it, and he was courteous enough not to think it properly done unless she, too, achieved orgasm. He just wasn't capable of making love, of playing, of varying what they did.

She only cried the first night.

He did talk to her sometimes, never while they were having sex, but other times. She suspected that that, too, was from courtesy, but she paid careful attention to what he said, hoping for information she could use. And she still hoped that, by interacting with him, she could reach him somehow.

On the last morning, he put a hand on her arm as she was rising from bed and tugged her back down. "Megumi-san," he said. He hesitated, and she wondered if he even knew what he was going to say next.

She knelt, facing him. She said nothing, simply waited for whatever words he might offer.

He cleared his throat. "Sanosuke is... damaged."

And you aren't? But she held her tongue.

"He hurts people." Kenshin brushed her hair back from her face, a gesture of greater tenderness than he'd offered any time during the previous week. "He breaks things. That's just what he does now." He met her eyes then looked away. "I would rather he not hurt you."

She nodded. "I'm not a fool, Kenshin-san." She sighed and wished he would look at her, really look at her. I don't think Sanosuke wants to hurt me, but then, I don't think you wanted to hurt me, either. Greatly daring, she put a hand on Kenshin's arm, just the barest pressure. "I will be careful."

His hand covered hers for a moment. Then he pulled away. "I will be here this week. At least, I think so."

And you want me to turn to you if I can't bear Sanosuke. What if I can't bear you, either? She nodded again. "I will remember."

He nodded and stood to begin getting dressed.


	8. Chapter 8

That night, she went to Sanosuke's room instead of to Kenshin's. She was more than a little apprehensive. She'd been reasonably sure that Kenshin wouldn't hurt her, physically at least, but she hadn't the least idea what to expect here. She'd never even seen the inside of Sanosuke's room.

As she raised her hand to knock, she wondered if, after all, she should have chosen Kenshin. Kenshin would break her heart; she had no idea what Sanosuke would do.

After she knocked, she could hear someone inside, presumably Sanosuke, moving around. Then the door opened, and Sanosuke was looking down at her. They stood there for a moment, neither saying anything. Finally, he stepped back to let her inside.

She stopped a few steps into the room and looked around. She wrinkled her nose. The whole place stank of alcohol. Sanosuke's bedding lay in the middle of the floor, blankets flung to one side, and she wondered if he ever bothered to put them away. Clothing, too, lay in heaps.

She picked her way to the center of the room. "Does nobody ever clean in here?" The maids came to Kenshin's room every day, but this place looked like no one had bothered for weeks. Are the maids that frightened of him? She had to admit that they might be. And they might be right to be.

"I don't want anybody in here." Sanosuke's voice came from so close behind her that she started.

She wrapped her arms around her body and waited for him to indicate what he wanted her to do.

"You might as well sit down." The words sounded grudging.

She looked around, trying to find a bare bit of floor on which to settle.

"On the bed's fine."

She risked a glance back at him and saw his eyes intent upon her. After a week of Kenshin not actually seeing her, Sanosuke's gaze made her tremble. She said nothing, simply knelt on the mattress.

Sanosuke walked around her and settled, cross-legged, in front of her, much closer than she actually wanted him. He put a hand on her knee. "You all right?"

"I'm well." She wasn't sure what else to say.

"But you're scared." There didn't seem to be any emotion in that.

"I'm not stupid." She met his eyes. "What do you want me to do?" She raised her hands to loosen her clothing.

His hands shot out and grasped her wrists, pulling them down and away from her body. "No." His fingers squeezed hard enough that she knew they'd leave bruises. "Don't fucking do that."

She didn't struggle. "Sanosuke, you're hurting me."

His grip didn't loosen. "Nobody's going to be checking in here to see if we fucked." His eyes were clearer than she could remember seeing them since-- since she'd arrived two months before. "I don't want you like that, not because the alternatives are worse." He set his jaw and glared at her. "I don't know what Kenshin's been doing. The cold blooded, broken son of a bitch." His lips twisted in a sneer.

She pulled a little, trying to retrieve her hands, but his grip was stronger than she was. She pushed her fear back and made herself meet his eyes. "I'm here now. With you."

"But I wasn't your first choice."

She swallowed hard. "I couldn't choose. I couldn't."

He released one of her wrists and raised his free hand to touch her face. "You're not broken. I don't want to see you broken. Kenshin may not care, but I do."

"Kenshin thinks you'll hurt me." Will you?

He laughed. The sound seemed wrenched out of him. "I might. I'm not always-- I don't-- Oh, fuck." He let go of her altogether. He held his hands up in front of his face and stared at them as if he'd never seen them before.

Megumi pulled her hands in against her body. She could only watch him and hope that the moment passed.

"I wasn't going to touch you. Neither of us should touch you." He lowered his hands.

But Kenshin did, and I wish he hadn't. No. I can get used to that. I can get used to anything. "It's all right, Sanosuke." She inched closer to him. "See. I'm fine." She touched his sleeve. "I trust you." Both of you.

"You shouldn't. Because I want to-- And if I do-- If I do, I will hurt you, so I won't." He straightened and pulled his arm away from her fingers. "You shouldn't be here."

"Would you rather I was with him? Or on the streets?"

"Why are you really here?" For just a moment, she thought she saw the man he used to be looking out from his eyes.

He didn't mean right now, this room, but that was the answer she gave. "Because Shishio-sama said--"

"Bullshit." He spoke without heat. He leaned toward her. "You could leave any time. You could find somewhere to go."

She took a deep breath and hoped that her grief didn't show in her eyes. She touched his face, the merest brush of her fingers.

He inhaled sharply but didn't pull back.

"You are worth it. You--" She hesitated, knowing he might not like her next words. "You and Kenshin. Whatever happened to you, it doesn't matter." Except that it does. "You're still here, so I'm still here. As long as you're here, I will stay." And she knew that she would stay, even if Kenshin killed Saitoh tomorrow, even if her original mission became pointless.

He turned his face away, and she let him go.

Her hand fell to her lap. "What now?" She studied his face. He hid less than Kenshin did, but she had no idea what he meant to do next.

"You take the bed. I'll sleep over there--" He waved a hand at a corner of the room where the floor showed through clearly.

"On the floor?"

"Can't very well ask for a second futon." He still wouldn't look at her. "Just 'cause nobody's going to check doesn't mean they won't ask questions if--" He chopped the sentence off with an abrupt gesture.

"I don't think you'll hurt me in your sleep." Will you? She wasn't entirely sure. Does he have nightmares?

"I haven't slept near anybody since-- Since. Don't know what I do in my sleep."

She sighed, keeping the exhalation as quiet as she could. It would damage him to hurt me. That's something. She rubbed her wrists. But he's already hurt me. Just not badly. "I'm willing to risk it." She thought that the key to Sanosuke might be in spending time with him when he didn't lose control, didn't hurt her, but he was so strong that she couldn't stop him if he did lose control.

And how many women have I heard make excuses for the men who hurt them? Am I going to be one of them? No, it would be worse than that-- If he hurts me and Kenshin finds out, Kenshin will kill him. Maybe I should have picked Kenshin after all. It would be safer for Sanosuke.

"I don't know what happened to you or to Kenshin," she said at last. "Neither of you has told me, and I can't very well ask anyone else. I don't think... It wouldn't be healthy to take too much interest in... before."

Sanosuke laughed. It was a bitter, painful sound. "Fucking nothing happened to Kenshin. He got shot, and when he was better, he was Shishio's dog. Fucking nothing."

Which implies that something happened to you. She didn't say anything for a minute. Then she said, "That's Kenshin." If you don't understand it, I'm not sure I will either, but there has to be something more to it. Something. Never mind. It's Sano who matters right now. "What did they do to you?" You'd rather have died than be what you are now.

He still wasn't looking at her. He rose to his feet. "He was very displeased with me." He turned his back to her. He began to remove his clothes.

She realized she was holding her breath and forced herself to exhale. In the time she'd been in Shishio's household, she'd not seen much of Sanosuke's skin. He wore long sleeves, and he wrapped both his wrists and his hands. She hadn't thought anything of it, and now, she suspected she should have.

He stripped to the waist, dropping his discarded clothing on one of the piles, and she saw what had been hidden. Scar after scar. She thought some were burns. Some were likely deep cuts. Others-- Were those teeth marks? She remembered none of them from the few times she'd seen Sanosuke shirtless before-- Before.

And there were, she knew, many ways to inflict pain that left no scars. These were just fragments of what he’d been through.

He kept his back to her as he unwrapped the bandages around his left wrist and hand. There was a wide ring of scar tissue around his wrist. He raised his left hand and looked at it, flexing his fingers. The fingers of his right hand brushed the scar then circled his wrist.

Now he turned back to look at her.

She thought there was both a challenge and a vulnerability in his expression. She met his eyes and nodded. I see, and I understand. That's what happened to you. No wonder you can't forgive Kenshin. I certainly won't forgive Shishio.

She rose to her feet and walked over to him. She put one hand on his chest. “It’s more than I could have endured.” It took you a long time to break. I can see that. You must have fought bitterly. She stepped closer and laid her head against his shoulder.

He didn’t move for a moment. Then his arm came up to circle her shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have more ideas about Megumi and what will happen with her, but this seems like the right point to end this story because it completes part of an emotional journey for her.

**Author's Note:**

> My original idea for this came from wanting to see the supporting characters from canon forced to step up to save the day. The other parts of this are mainly running aground on my problems with writing fight scenes and with trying to figure out exactly what happened at the Aoiya, but Kaoru, Yahiko, Misao, and Hiko are all still alive. Saitoh just thought that Megumi would be better off not knowing.
> 
> Working out what happened at the Aoiya might mean editing/altering the Aoshi section of this story because it might make more sense for Fuji to be alive rather than dead as Kaoru and the Oniwabanshu would have had to deal with him without help. It's both a logistics and a characterization problem. (And, if he's alive, what on Earth became of him? He's kind of hard to lose track of.) All of Shishio's other minions at the Aoiya have to die in order for the body count to come out to what Aoshi expected.
> 
> If anybody who knows the canon and has some skill with writing action scenes has interest in collaborating, I'd be quite happy to talk and see if we're able to work together.
> 
> I just thought that these bits about Megumi and the associated bits of backstory worked as a stand-alone thing.


End file.
